


Bird Poison

by n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Chronic Pain, Depression, Emily doesn’t deserve this, Emily-centric, Emotional Roller Coaster, Family Issues, Haley is 23, Monsters, Multi, Nightmares, Sisters, Violence, buckle up it gets bad, but there is pain, everyone has bird wings, he’s a monster - Freeform, it makes sense in the story i swear, she’s 20, the Hat Mouse is an important character, this story goes zero to a hundred real fast, yes I made her older because hell yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-31 22:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss/pseuds/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss
Summary: Emily was a splendid fairywren, a happy-go-lucky hen, the bubbly bartender at that saloon. Everyone knew her by her bright personality that wasn’t hard to miss.That girl is gone now.All that’s left behind of her is a few blood soaked feathers. Her replacement is someone who looks exactly the same, sounds the same. Except this Emily is broken. Badly.





	1. Blue Bird’s Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> An AU I’ve thought about since summer and now I’m finally doing something with it uwu

Sometimes bad things just happen to good people. Sometimes fate just has other plans for someone. If Emily would have known this then she would have just stayed inside. Maybe she wouldn’t be in her current situation.

Emily was splendid fairywren in a flock of canaries. Adopted. Thrown out from her own nest and taken pity on by a pullet with golden feathers. Don’t get her wrong, she really appreciated what those two did for her, but sometimes she wondered if she was the reason why they left. She and Haley told everyone they were off traveling when really they had no idea where their parents were. The only thing they left behind were a few fallen yellow feathers on the floor of the living room.

Haley changed ever since her parents left. She doesn’t say it out loud, but she probably blames Emily for it, too. Honestly, she had every right to think that way. She never asked for this blue feathered fledgling to come into her clutch. The two of them were never super close, but this just made them drift apart even further.

Still, despite the growing family issues and nagging sadness, Emily made an effort to stay happy. She put on a persona and wore it everyday. The other people in the town knew her as the bubbly wren with kinda weird hobbies, but was still charming nonetheless.

Well, until it happened.

It was the end of summer. Fall was right around the corner. Emily ventured into the forest to soak up she last of the sun rays. She spread her sapphire blue wings and breathed out a sigh of bliss. This always felt amazing. It was like rolling around in molten gold.

Rustling snapped her out of her trance. Deer jumped out of the underbrush and rushed right past Emily, causing her to jump away and fall on her back. Her wings thrusted outwards in surprise and she laughed before realizing the odd behavior of the animals. Deer normally didn’t run towards a person. They ran away.

Emily pushed herself up and brushed herself off, ruffling out her feathers to rid them of any dirt. She was still pondering why the deer were acting so weirdly when she heard it. The squeaking.

Curious and concerned, she tiptoed forward and peeked through the brush. There, a few feet away, was a deer lying in a pool of its own blood. Its stomach was ripped open, but it was still alive, like whatever had killed it wasn’t interested in eating at the moment. The sight made Emily feel bad for the poor thing, but also a little nervous.

What did this? When she found out, she wished she had just ran off with the rest of the herd.

Growling came to the left. A tall, bulky creature emerged from its hiding spot in the trees, perching on a branch with long, curved talons. It had molted grey skin and bug-like eyes. Multiple rows of teeth poked out of its maw, dripping with some kind of creamy fluid. The barb at the end of its tail was just as menacing as its seven-inch claws. With it noticed Emily, it hisses lowly.

WingEaters. A human’s natural enemy. From the name, these monsters eat a person’s wings to gain some of their own. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty predators that stop at nothing to feed.

Emily flung her wings open but it was too late; the monster was upon her. There’s a terrible pain- everything goes black when she hits that tree. Emily wakes up on the ground.

No. Wait. Waking up implied she was in a bed, at home, safe.

Emily came to.

She’s lying face-down in the ground, mouth full of dirt. There’s a metallic tang in her tongue- she’s frothing red at the lips.

Emily lifts her head up and coughs out gritty clots of scarlet. She sees the WingEater hunched over a few feet away, distracted by something. This was her only chance to get away so she crawls. She crawls until she could finally force herself to stand up and run.

She staggered into town square. Jodi screams. Multiple people scream. Marnie is shielding Jas’ eyes- but why? Emily’s knees are wobbling and her vision keeps blurring with a blizzard of white. She can’t focus on anything. She attempted to speak, to ask what was wrong, but only blood floods out. Deliriously, she dabs her fingertips against her lips and stare in bewilderment when they came back red, like she was just now noticing her body violently ejecting its own fluids. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Sam sprint somewhere- where was he going?

Emily couldn’t follow, couldn’t ask what was going on. Her legs give out. She drops into a pool of her own blood.

It wasn’t the deer that WingEater was eating.

———

The Flightless. That’s what people who have lost their ability to fly are called. That’s what Emily is now sorted into.

Harvey, Mary, and Demetrius (he was called in to help) spent three hours trying to stabilize Emily. Eventually, they got the bleeding to stop- _that’s a lot of blood for one body_ \- and stitched up the gash, but nothing could bring back the wing that was ripped off.

Emily would never fly again.

When she woke up, she cried. Emily shivered and sobbed and had bad panic attacks. The anguish was blinding- the pain was worse. Even with the antibiotics, she was overwhelmed by white hot agony that seared up through her back, ripping her apart from the inside out.

Her world was crashing down.

She hadn’t realized the damage at first. She was in a severe state of shock when she came hobbling into town, clothing drenched in her own blood. People who had witnessed it said she looked extremely dazed and completely out-of-it, unaware of the gore she was soaked in, unaware that her back was spitting like a spigot. She just kept asking herself why. Why her? Why did this have to happen to her? What did she ever do?

When she was released from the medical center, Emily went home and lied in her bed for six days. For six days she suffered. She didn’t eat, barely drank anything. Haley had to basically force just about everything down her throat.

Haley...

Why did she only take responsibility when something bad has happened?

Regardless, her help was appreciated. When Emily suffered horribly during the fifth night, she was there.

That was the worst part.

Haley wasn’t too sure what woke her up exactly. All she knew is that something made her get out of bed and walking into the living room. Light was sleeping in from the bathroom. Inside, Emily was on her hands and knees, panting heavily, clutching fistfuls of the shaggy shower carpet. Her shirt was discarded in the sink, revealing her milky-yellow, sweat-soaked flesh and the ugly scar on her back. She didn’t look to be comfortable in the slightest, as her muscles were contracting violently and her bra strap appeared to be digging into taut her skin. Not that she had the energy to wrestle with the clasp right now, though.

“Emily?” Haley called out, standing in the doorway.

She saw her sister’s entire body tense up. Emily is trying not to move but she’s trembling too badly.

“Em?” Haley tried again, “You okay? What’s wrong?”

She wasn’t okay. Of course she wasn’t okay- what kind of question was that?

Haley slowly walked over and knelt down, setting a hand on the small of her sister’s back. She could feel her shivering, along with her spasming muscles underneath her damp skin. It caused Emily to jump a little, but she didn’t scamper away. Haley thinks she doesn’t have the energy to.

“How long have you been like this?” Haley asked. She’s making an effort not to look in the toilet, as she’s sure her sister has already exhausted herself by emptying her stomach into it.

“I....ah...hours?” Emily meekly replied with slurred words. Her voice was weak and hoarse.

Hours? Guilt pools in the back of Haley’s throat.

Emily lifts her head and shudders. A painful spasm ripped through her remaining wing and her response to it was by slamming her forehead into the toilet seat. Haley’s heart clenched a little when she realized she was probably trying to knock herself out.

...Did it really hurt that much?

“Don’t do that,” The canary chided softly, slipping her hand down to lift Emily’s head up. The answer she got was an incoherent mumble that morphed into a tight whimper.

“H-Haley-“

“It’s alright. Just get it out of your system. I’m going to go wake up Harvey and-“

Emily grabbed Haley by the wrist, holding on with a death grip. She didn’t look at her, too humiliated to make eye contact, but still refused to be alone like this. Thank the gods her sister understood so she didn’t have to pathetically mewl it out loud.

“Okay. I’m staying. I won’t go anywhere.”

Emily wanted to thank her, she really did, but bile rose up in her throat and she gathered enough energy to push herself up to avoid throwing up all over herself.

Haley holds her hair out of the way, rubbing her hand gently across the top of her back. Her fingers trail down and pushed up the clasp of Emily’s bra to look at the gash it was pressing into.

“Ho, Jesus, Em this- I can see why you’re in here.”

No wonder Emily decided to take off her shirt. The edges looked raw from the material constantly rubbing against it, practically glowing neon pink. Dried blood and pus crusted over the stitches, which were straining to simply hold the wound together. Her back had become a labyrinth of purple and yellow- the pain she must have been in was unfathomable.

“Shouldn’t this be wrapped up? Did Harvey not bandage it? I swear to god I’m going to shove a broomstick so far up his-“

Emily’s small whimper halted Haley and she shut her mouth.

“No, he- I-“ She coughed and then wheezed.

“Don’t speak.” Haley shushed her gently, “We’ll worry about that later. For now- Em, I’m going to try and wrap this. It might be a little more comfortable.”

Emily doesn’t have the energy to resist. Simply being a foot away from her sister right now was disagreeable, so she was just happy to be around someone, even in these circumstances.

She finally looked up when Haley grabbed some things from the cabinets. There was deep shame in her eyes. She immediately pressed against the canary when she knelt down again.

“Here, try lying down, okay? Just get comfortable.”

Emily obliged and lays down with her burning forehead against Haley’s lap. She folds her wing around her bare arms, trying to get warmer.

“This is going to sting a little.”

Emily wasn’t expecting antiseptic. Her spine arched and she howled at the burning sensation.

Pressing down harder, Haley uses her other hand to brush back her sister’s bangs, hoping to help soothe her. When she lifts the towel, its covered in a thin film the color of rust. Emily whimpers into her folded thighs, curling up like an injured cat.

Suddenly, the bell rang, causing Emily to flinch a little. Haley untangled herself and stands up.

“I’ll be right back.”

Haley answers the front door, noticing that it was 3:30 in the morning when she passed by the digital clock. Jodi was standing out on the stoop, a concerned look on her face.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, her song sparrow wings opening and closing slowly, “We heard a scream.”

Haley noticed Sam and Vincent looking out from their porch.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” She said, “I was just helping Emily clean her back.”

Jodi nodded.

“If you two ever need anything just ask.”

“We will.”

Haley went back to the bathroom to find Emily sitting up, her fingernails dug in her knees. She looked up and then immediately glanced away. Haley embraced her and, in the midst of all the mayhem and pain, the sisters share a quiet moment.

———

Emily recovered, but she didn’t get better. Not psychologically. That’s why Harvey prescribed her antidepressants. She didn’t think they worked.

Still, she eventually forced herself to get up. Even when it felt like someone had just ripped out her spine and proceeded to beat her to a pulp with it, she hauled her body off to the saloon to work. Somebody had to pay the bills.

Without her other wing, though, her balance was completely thrown off. When she dropped a glass for the third time that evening, Gus finally sent her home to rest. Instead of doing that, Emily dragged herself to the forest. She wasn’t in control of her body.

Guided by the light from the sunset, Emily stumbled upon a shack tucked in a circle of dense trees. She heard the rattle of metal from inside and stupidly decided to check it out.

A WingEater. It wasn’t the one who had attacked her, this one was much smaller. Its skin was iridescent green and black, like the color of a fly. Lime tinted bug eyes blinked and antenna twitched around in the air. Unlike the other beast, this one is dressed in some kind of flesh-colored smock. It looks leathery, with smears of red and brown staining the material. Protective metal clasps linked around the limbs. They had to be some kind of ceremonial garbs; who knew monsters and a sense of fashion. Chains were locked around the wrists.

Emily stared for a long time and then laughed harshly.

“Look at this. Trapped. On the ground. Like me.”

She walked up to it, grabbing a sharp rock for a weapon. The WingEater reels back into the corner.

“Your kind ruined my life.” The girl growled lowly. She raised her arm and the rock came down on the chains. “Go do the same thing to someone else. I don’t want to be the only one like this.”

She bashed the chains, yelling and snarling as tears poured down her face. Eventually, they broke apart. Emily stumbled backwards, breathing heavily. The carnivorous monster stared up at her in bewilderment.

“Go!” Emily cried. “Go fuck up another person’s life! It’s all you creatures know how to do!”

The WingEater skitters by and jumped into the air. In the light of the sun’s descent, the feathers of a lilac-breasted roller shined beautifully in the background of twilight.


	2. The Wolf and The Wren

Sleep quickly became a hassle, and not just because of the new and very frequent nightmares. It hurt when Emily tried to lay on her back, so she spent at least an hour each night in bed just trying to get comfortable. When she would eventually fall asleep, she rested deep in a pit of terror.

Something woke her up one night. It cussed her to sit up straight and look around in the darkness. She heard a sound. A growl.

Emily lunged for her nightstand, flicking on her lamp and also grabbing in for a weapon. It came on with a burst of radiance, illuminating the figure hanging upside down from the ceiling.

It was that WingEater from the shack. It hung weightlessly from the ceiling, with its hands pressed firmly to the smooth paint. There were no holds, so it appeared to be completely defying gravity.

“You!” Emily cried, “What the hell- You-“

The monster growls harmlessly. It opens its mouth and a tongue slithered out, swirling around in the air.

“Stop that.” Emily snapped, “Why are you here? And before you ask- no, you can’t eat my other wing.”

The monster closed its mouth. Its antenna twitch around for a moment before it crawls across the ceiling to get closer. The colorful wings on its back fan in the air. That meant this thing has eaten someone.

“What do you want?” Emily asked in a softer, more fearful voice. She’s trembling, clutching onto her lamp and blankets tightly.

She couldn’t understand why this thing was here. Why wasn’t it attacking her? Instead of getting a verbal answer, the WingEater hung downwards and began touching and picking things up, even tasting a few items (which Emily yelled at it for)

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” The wren demanded, snatching away a pair of sewing scissors that were about to be coated in monster saliva.

The beast blinked its eyes at her then picked up some lipstick. It began to scrawl something on the wall.

“M O U S E”

Emily swallowed hard. It kind of frightened her knowing this thing could spell.

“Is...is that your name?”

The WingEater- Mouse- purred in response. It held out the lipstick to Emily, who recoiled backwards.

“Are you-“ Emily faltered, “Are you _visiting_ me?”

Mouse’s wings flapped, which was probably a yes.

“But- but _why_? I don’t- I don’t understand...”

Emily is shaking hard. Mouse notices. It tilts its head slowly, twitches, and then is gone. The room is silent.

———

The next day, Emily goes to the museum, desperate for answers. She had assumed it was all a dream, as the writing on her wall was gone, but then she noticed how her red lipstick was worn down.

Emily found a book on WingEaters on one of the shelves and began reading:

_WingEaters are large, bipedal carnivores that primarily prey on humans. When they eat someone’s wings, they gain an identical pair of their own. WingEaters live in a group called an “infestation” or “colony” and there is a special hierarchy to their civilization._

_The Hive Queen- The largest WingEater in a colony. She is the queen and leader of the other WingEaters and is highly lethal when provoked._

_Brood Mothers- Brood Mothers spend most of their lives breeding and laying eggs to expand the clutch. Despite usually being stationary, brood mothers are very dangerous if angered. They have been known to spit acid and lay eggs inside of humans._

_Drones- The “hunters” of the colony. These WingEaters..._

Emily read through the book, trying to find something, anything that’ll let her know why the WingEater- err...Mouse- hadn’t attacked her. She scanned each paragraph, but couldn’t match anything to it.

Alpha? No.

Omega? No.

Nurse? No.

Worker? No.

Rogue? No.

Beta? No-

Wait.

_Betas- These WingEaters are usually seen wearing strange garments. It was thought to be attached to their skin, but people have reported betas without the garbs. They wear them to highlight their butcher-like job in the colony. Betas are in charge of taking care of prey down in the chambers of the hive._

Mouse had worn those weird clothes, meaning he must have been a beta. But that didn’t explain why it hadn’t been hostile towards Emily. She continued to read but found nothing else.

This didn’t make any sense.

Emily sighed and left the museum. She went the work, thinking about her strange experience the whole time.

“Here is your salad, Clint.” She says, setting a plate in front of the blacksmith.

Clint was an awkward guy with the wings of a buzzard. He stutters out a “thank you”, but stops Emily before she could walk away.

“Um, hey, uhh... How are you feeling today?”

Emily shrugged a little.

“Right now? Fine, I guess. How are you?”

“Oh, I-I’m- I’m good!”

Emily nodded. She awkwardly rocked back and forth on her heels before shuffling towards the bathroom. While washing her face, there’s growling from behind. She froze.

“Mouse?” She called out softly, kind of resting the name at the same time.

The monster responds with a chirp. It’s perched on one of the stall doors, head tilted like a puppy. Emily didn’t have to turn around to see it, the mirror did that for her.

“If you’re in here, then does that make you a girl?”

Mouse wrinkled its nose and snorted. So it was male, then.

He climbed down from his perch and looked at the door for a moment. Outside, Clint could be heard talking. He must have gotten up from his table to speak with Gus about something.

The WingEater growls. The anger was building as his wings stretched out, feathers sticking up in various directions. His claws sunk into the cracks in the floorboards, chipping the wood around his hands.

He was mad. But about what? Clint? It’s like he could almost tell that pudgy blacksmith was practically half Emily’s age and yet he still hit on her. But why would that anger him? Why would he care? Was he watching her when she spoke to him? Where had he been? Did he just not like Clint? Was it something else?

Suddenly, he shrieks.

The beast swung his arms around, smashing mirrors and ripping up the floorboards. His screeches and shrills were ear-splitting, practically shaking the walls as he destroyed the bathroom. He was in a frenzy and it terrified Emily, as she was already backed up into one of the corners.

Eventually, Mouse calmed down, breathing heavily, exhausted by his outburst.

“Are you done?” Emily’s voice came out shaky.

Mouse looks at her and chuffed. He jumped up onto of the sinks (or what’s left of it), balancing perfectly on his haunches.

“Listen to me,” Emily started softly, “You’re dangerous. If you ever do this,” She gestures to the mess, “to my sister or somebody I care about, I won’t be your friend anymore.”

That’s not the threat she wanted to say, but she didn’t think she could intimidate this deadly monster. Did she think of Mouse as a friend, though?

Apparently the beast did, as he recoiled backwards, eyes bulging. He clicks and keens a few times before extending a clawed hand outwards. The wren jerks away.

“You take anyone away from me,” Emily warned, “and you become nothing more than another fucking monster. Just like the one who ruined my life.”

The grasping hand froze. Mouse pulled his arm back, staring for a long time. He began fidgeting, visibly panicking. He gurgled and whines and bleated. Then, he was gone.

Emily hurried from the scratched up door, stumbling back out into the saloon. When she looks over her shoulder, she notices that the bathroom is completely intact. Nobody seemed to notice all the destruction, either.

“Emily? Are you okay?” Robin- her wings are self explanatory- called out from where she’s sitting.

“You’re looking a little pale,” Marnie, a cowbird, added.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nodded, hurrying back behind the bar. She grabbed a rag and vigorously began cleaning a glass to try and distract herself.

“Are you scared?”

Shane was a normal for the saloon. He was gruff and stingy, but his wings were that of a black chicken.

“Yeah,” Emily answered without looking up, “Of everything.”

———

It was the dead of night when Emily bolts up in a cold sweat. She’s trembling violently, choking on her soft sobs. The bonds of her nightmare recedes but the gore continues to flash behind her eyes.

_Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe. It wasn’t real. You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re- Breathe. Why can’t I breathe? Why can’t I breathe why can’t I breathe why can’t I-_

Soft growling came from the darkness.

Emily froze, but a sob escaped her lips. She shakes harder, pulling her one wing closer to herself. A serrated claw touches her shoulder and she jerks away, cowering beneath her blankets.

_Don’t touch me. Oh god. God god god god god-_

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, gurgling, growling, purring. Mouse appeared to be fussing over Emily’s head, like he was trying to figure out what to do. His claws glide down her back, brush across the scar, and she flinches. He flinches, too.

The monster lowers himself down from the ceiling and onto the bed. He moves slowly, linking his arms around Emily’s middle in a strange embrace. His tail curls around her, wings folding over her shoulders, easing her in closer.

When Emily began to cry a little, he nuzzled against her neck and purred in a soft, reassuring way. The beast was comforting her.

Slowly, Emily peeks her head out from under the blankets. Glowing green eyes blink at her before the cuddling continued.

“You’re getting my covers all dirty.” She mumbled unhappily.

The grime and what was probably coagulated blood was rubbing off on her sheets. She shuddered and hot tears roll down her cheeks. She feels Mouse shift a little and a talon raises up to try and wipe her eyes.

“I’m never going to get better...”

Emily was confiding to this creature in a way she couldn’t to anyone else, not even her sister or doctor. The pain and despair and vulnerability had built up so high- she was drowning in it. The wren chokes hard.

“I’m never going to sleep without nightmares. I’m never going to forget about what happened to me. I’ll never fly again, unless it’s in my own delusions. For the rest of my life I will be fighting against the temptation of my own insanity. And for what? I don't know. It's important to keep going, but I'm never going to get b-better..."

Her voice is tight with emotion and pain. Everything is a whirlwind of muddled feelings and suffering. Blood is roaring in her ears.

“I don’t _work right_ anymore. I don’t know how to be happy. Sometimes I’m happy- when I’m sewing- but every other time I’m just- _miserable_.” A quivering inhale, “I try. I really do, but nothing works. All Harvey does is dope me up on antidepressants until I _can’t feel_ anymore, which is nice at first, but then it becomes painful. The numbness, I mean. I can’t- I can’t enjoy anything anymore.”

The wren weeps. Her fists clench and she carved bloody half-moons into her palms. She wanted to rip open her stitches, she wanted to tear out her feathers, she wanted to _set herself ablaze_ because the pain was the only thing that made her feel again.

“I wish it never happened.” She grits out, like there’s sand lodged in her throat, “I wish it hadn’t been _me_. I know that’s selfish, but I just-“

She breaks down. Her trembling gets worse, as does the torment. She needed an anchor and she needed it _now_.

“If you’re going to be here- if you’re going to _stay_ \- then keep me safe. Please.”

There’s a firm growl in response. It relaxes Emily- she doesn’t know why.

When she closes her eyes, there’s less gore flashing around in the fuzzy darkness. A tongue gently licks away her tears, a soothing gesture to end this horrible night.

———

“Thank you.”

The monster coos. Mouse is still there the next morning, which was a little risky, but Emily really appreciated it.

Emily climbed out of her bed and cringed. Her blankets were stained in some kind of dried up muck, thanks to Mouse rubbing against them all night.

“You are _filthy_.”

Mouse chirruped and tilted his head around. He rubbed his hand against his smock and gurgled in surprise when it came back all dirty. He tried to wiped it off on the floor.

“ _Not on the carpet!_ ”

The monster jumped a little and looked up at Emily. Then, his antenna twitch around. The bedroom door swings open.

“Emily?”

“Haley!”

Emily scrambled to try and hide the literal WingEater in her room, but he had vanished into thin air. She stared, dumbfounded, then turned to her sister.

“Hey! Morning!”

“I heard you yell,” Haley said, an eyebrow raised, “Is, uhh-“

“I’m fine! Don’t worry. Just dropped something.”

Haley nodded slowly.

“Alright. Well, I’m going over to Alex’s for awhile.”

“See you later!”

When the door closed, Mouse appeared on the wall. He gurgles and Emily turned to him.

“At least you know when to hide. Can all WingEaters do that? None of the books mentioned it, so probably not. You’re just special, I guess.”

Mouse purrs.

“You’re such a cat, you know?” Emily chuckled, “Now, get down from there. You need a bath.”

The monster tilted his head around.

“Yes, a bath. If you’re going to stay, you need to be clean.”

Emily began to wonder if, like a cat, he had an aversion to water. Only one way to find out.

 

 


	3. Birds Of A Feather Must Flock Together

When Emily turned on the tap, Mouse instantly became interested in the bathtub. He hangs from the side of the wall so he can bat at the water, which caused Emily to laugh. He jumped at the sudden sound, but goes back to what he’s doing once he confirms she’s okay.

“Okay, I’m going to try and get that smock off of you.”

Emily grabbed the scissors she has brought in and waved Mouse over. Reluctantly, he climbs down and sat down in front of her.

“Good monster.”

The dual blades slip under one of the laces. For a moment, the leather held, making Emily think they were indestructible, but then the scissors chewed through the binds.

White and blue veins were wound up Mouse’s back, clear as day despite his dark flesh. They seemed to glow a little, pulsating slightly. Emily looks over this new sight before continuing her work, removing the straps and metallic clasps. When everything was off, Mouse stretched out his wings and shook himself out.

“There we go. Now, go on, get in the bath!”

The monster eyes her crossly, chugging softly under his breath. Emily puts her hands on her hips.

“Don’t give me that look, mister. I know you hear me.” She nudges his tail with her foot, “Go on.”

Mouse grumbled and then crawled into the bathtub. He loved it almost instantly, purring as he relaxed in the hot water. He leans down and feels a cluster of bubbles with his antenna. The beast sneezes.

Emily grabbed a washcloth and douses it with soap. She starts with the creature’s back, scrubbing off layers of grime and dirt. Mouse was very patient, sitting still for her, even when she took the time to clean each of his claws thoroughly.

“Tail.” Emily says and he obeys.

The rag shines the hook-like barb on the tip. Apparently it was supposed to inject a paralyzing nerve toxin or even spray boiling acid.

Right then, Emily realizes what she’s doing. She’s been treating Mouse like a friend or pet; a benevolent mute companion. He was the same species as the thing that hurt her- that ruined her life. And yet...

Mouse makes a confused noise. He turns around and Emily shrinks away, white-knuckling a rag that was covered in monster grime. She senses that he was probably going to climb out of the tub and touch her. Comfort her. She didn’t want that.

“You scare me.”

For a long time, girl and monster just stare at each other.

It didn’t feel real. The feeling was similar to when you do just about anything at 3AM but without the lucid, otherworldly touch. No, this was sitting inside a thin salt circle at witching hour, shrouded by shadows where something deadly lurks.

What was this? A paradox? A cycle of madness that left her questioning her protector? A wormhole that constantly repeats her meltdowns? A liberation from madness, or an episode? Was this desperately breaking free of something that was going to lull her into mindlessness, or was this a foolish denial of her only possible anchor? Was this hell?

Fear ached in Emily’s stomach. Nameless fear. Unexplained fear. Overwhelming fear. She had to run. She had to get out of the room. She had to get out of the house, away from this, away from this monster, away from this insanity, she needed her shrink, she needed-

The bathroom didn’t feel right anymore. Mouse started to snarl. It wasn’t his harmless little growl- this wound was rabid. He gripped the edge of the tub with his front claws, cracking the plastic slightly with frightening amounts of strength. His tail arches over his back, barb gleaming menacingly. Spines started to grow out of the lacy veins, sharp and quivering, creating a horrible buzzing sound. Those were new; Emily stared in utter horror.

“Mouse, stop!” She cried, “Stop it, please!”

Mouse rears up with a deafening screech that sends Emily collapsing into a cringing ball of pain. She pressed against the cabinets and writhed, clutching at her ears. From above, the monster continues to frenzy.

“Stop!”

Emily forced herself up onto her knees, flaring out her one wing wide open.

“You know what? _Fuck you_! If you want to tear up this bathroom, too, then _fine_. But if you disappear, if you leave me alone like this, if you _abandon me_ , I _won’t_ forgive you!”

Silence.

Mouse twitches and then chutes softly. His quills retract and he settled back down in the water, gurgling softly. When Emily crawls towards him, he moved away and pressed against the wall. The girl stops and then held out her hand.

“Here Mouse,” She called out softly, “Here Mousey. Come here, pretty boy. It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.”

Slowly, the monster inches closer and presses his head against Emily’s hand. Her arm looped over his neck and he welcomed the touch.

“I’m keeping you.” The wren murmured, “Let me keep you. I feel braver when you’re here with me.”

The monster purred and rubbed against her in an affectionate way. He was agreeing. He wanted to stay.

“Good boy.” Emily cooed, stroking the base of his wings, “Whatever I did to set you off, warn me next time, okay?”

A gurgle.

Once the two of them parted, Emily continued to wash off the WingEater. They were both a lot more relaxed and Mouse ended up playing in the water again.

The bath water became murky grey as more and more soot was removed. It seemed like dirt collectively clung to the leathery flesh over time, making it horribly dirty. It took around ten minutes to just get the top layer off and the water was already blackened. Emily ended up filling up a bowl so she could wash off her rag.

The wren uses her nails to get off the tougher layers of grime, something that even she’s a little surprised about doing. Black dirt and ash gets underneath her fingernails, but she doesn’t care. She’s completely focused on cleaning up the monster.

While his wings were beautiful, some feathers had to be cut off because they were just too stiff and dry. It’s almost like they were rotten. They floated lazily in the water with other clumps of burned fringes or fallen down.

Various kinds of soap and shampoo were rubbed against dark pelt, making the bathroom smell pleasant, despite the burnt scent that tried to combat it. Suds and bubbles filled the surface of the water, making Mouse sneeze when they get in his nose. Emily laughs.

Soon, the water became way too dirty to properly clean Mouse, so Emily decided to pull the plug. The WingEater gave her a confused look.

“Brace yourself.”

She was glad she had warned the monster, because she was almost positive he would have attacked the shower head. Hot water sprayed out from the spigot, causing Mouse to jump backwards and stick to the wall. He looked completely startled, but slowly lowered himself back into the tub. He began twisting and turning under the streaming rain, purring happily. Emily let him do a little dance under the stream before the shower off. When he reached for his smock on the floor, she scowled and kicked it away.

“You can’t put that back on! It’s filthy!”

Mouse chuffed. It’s not like it mattered if he worn anything or not- WingEaters didn’t have visible genitals.

“Let me clean it first, okay?”

When the monster agreed, Emily bundled both the smock and her sheets into the washing machine. Mouse hadn’t expected a stew of bleach, though, so he began to mope. He followed Emily around the house, bleating miserably. Repeatedly. For over an hour.

Emily gave him a plate of leftovers, but he just stared at it unhappily. He yowled and fretted and whined, padding into the laundry room to check on the progress of his weird WingEater clothes. After a moment, he would always return, disgusted by the bleach. Once he took a few trips and tugged helplessly on her shirtsleeve without changing his situation, he flopped to the floor, huffing and grumbling. Finally, he began to eat.

Emily was actually a little surprised that he would even consume human food, but he seemed to be enjoying the spaghetti. She sat down, watching the monster. _Her_ monster.

———

Was sneaking into a barn to show your pet monster farm animals considered trespassing? Maybe. But Mouse’s reaction was worth it.

For once, it hadn’t been a nightmare that woke Emily up. She had plans to sneak out with Mouse and just wander around, bonding with the beast. Night seemed to be the only time she could take him out.

Emily steps into the large barn, shutting the door quietly behind her and Mouse. The farm animals made startled noises at the sight of the wren and the strange creature. After a minute, they settled slightly, unaware of what Mouse really was.

Mouse happily pet on the cows and sheep and goats, chirping happily and tail wagging. Emily watched him, smiling.

While he was having his fun, she began to think. Mouse was very strange. He was so different compared to what other WingEaters are like, not to mention he can weirdly disappear and reappear at will. It didn’t seem like the rest of his kind could do that.

Emily turned around and opened the door to make sure the farmer was still asleep. That was the plan, but she ran into a problem.

A twisted monster was standing in her path.

It was almost skeletal because of how thin it was, dark red skin pulled tight over its bones. There were chunks missing from the arms and blue WingEater blood was crushed around the mouth. Hunger blazed in its eyes.

“MOUSE!” Emily screamed.

The beast lunged forward, chipped claws catching on the girl’s coat and ripping the fabric. She spasmed in fear, kicking it in the shin, making it stagger backwards. This would have been the perfect chance to run, if the door hadn’t slammed on her wing. Emily’s spine arched and she hissed between her teeth. The WingEater has regained its balance.

“Mouse!!”

There’s a roar, similar to the battle cry of a tiger or panther. Mouse is perched on the roof of the barn, suspending the rapid WingEater upside down in the air by one of its legs. He growled lowly, seized the tail with his other hand, and ripped it out in one clean motion. The spine comes out with it, along with a gushing fountain of blue blood. Emily feels her stomach turn.

The lights in the farmer’s house flick on. Mouse throws the body into the crops, jumps down, grabs Emily’s hand, and runs into the forest. Nestled in the bushes, they watch as the farmer steps out of their house and looked around.

Emily is still shaking. Her wing stung from when she was yanked out of the doorway. A few feathers were missing, but that was the least of her worries.

“Mouse,” She croaked, “Why was it...?”

Mouse wrapped her in his wings first, then his arms. His claws rubbed soothingly against her back. It was like he was saying, “It’s okay. It was just a fluke. It wasn’t here for you.”

Emily clung to the monster, waiting until her fear quelled. It was easier than before, thanks to her beast.


	4. Guilty Fowl

Emily’s appointments with Harvey were always the same. She sat down, he gave her from coffee, and then they stared at each other.

Okay, not exactly, but a lot of it was spent in silence. Harvey was fitted more for medical situations, not this therapy and psychological stuff.

“How have you been feeling lately?” The great horned owl asked, preparing his notes.

Emily shrugged a little.

“I don’t know. I- umm... Lately it’s felt like I still have _it_.”

“Phantom pain.”

Emily looked up from her mug.

“What?”

“Phantom pain.” Harvey repeated, “It’s the feeling that a lost limb is still there.”

He notices the wren’s confusing and continued:

“The exact cause of phantom pain is unclear, but it appears to come from the brain and spinal cord.” Now this was the Harvey Emily knew, “It can partially be explained by a response to mixed brain signals. After an amputation, areas of the spinal cord and brain lose input from the missing limb and adjust to this attachment in unpredictable ways.”

“But I didn’t get an amputation.” Emily points out and Harvey nodded slowly.

“That is correct, yes, but you still have lost a limb. Your nervous system still reacts in the same way.”

Phantom pain, huh? That explains it. The result for her triggers her body’s most basic reaction to something that isn’t right: pain. It’s the sensation of pins and needles cascading down her spine and she hated it.

They continue to talk until an hour has passed and Emily could leave. Out in town square, the wizard is talking with a few people. It’s not common to see him out of his tower.

“What’s going on?” She asked while walking over.

“A dead WingEater was in the farmer’s crops this morning.” Sam, a yellow warbler, informed.

Emily felt a pit form in her stomach. She had completely forgotten about it until now. But-but there was nothing to worry about! Nobody suspected her.

“It had its spine ripped out,” Wizard says, “Meaning a human didn’t kill it. Not to mention how it appeared to be starving, which is strange, given these monsters feed constantly.”

He noticed Emily trying to sidle away and he outstretched a wing to stop her. Violent-backed starling feathers glittered with arcane power.

“Hold on a moment, young Emily,” He said, “I wanted to speak with you.”

Emily swallowed nervously.

“Yes?”

He pulls her to the side so they can talk in private.

“I wanted to speak with you because you had an experience with a WingEater. Was the one that attacked you already have wings?”

“No. Why?”

Wizard purses his lips.

“I had captured a WingEater around a month ago to study. I hid it in the forest, but it must have escaped. That’s why I asked if it had been the one that went after you.”

That explained a lot. Maybe this was why Mouse has those strange teleportation abilities.

“Oh. Well- no. I wasn’t attacked by one with wings.”

“I see. Thank you for your time.”

Emily hurried back towards her house. She had to go check on her monster.

———

“No, Mouse, the people are SUPPOSED to have wings! Don’t rip them off!”

The monster yowled. Emily yowled right back at him, swiped his cookie cutter, and gave him a pumpkin one instead. He shaped the dough into the beta symbol. She said no. He pouted and stopped helping.

For the first half of that day, Mouse appeared to be very agitated by something. He had crawled back and forth up in the vents, growling and chuffing, until Emily started baking. That peeked his interest and he climbed down to help.

Fair day was coming up and Emily decided to make cookies. When Mouse joined her, she had to close all the blinds and curtains so nobody would see him from outside.

“Put this in the oven for me,” Emily said, holding out a tray. The beast listens.

“So, what’s gotten you so worked up lately?”

Mouse chuffed. He molds a human figure out of a clump of cookie dough then hissed, swinging his tail around to stab the model with his barb. Little things like this remind Emily about how dangerous he could be. In fact, she’s noticed a lot of things about her monster. That’s why she started taking notes on her observations.

**Emily’s WingEater Notes**

**_1\. Mouse can disappear and reappear at will because of the wizard’s enchantments._  
2\. Mouse is able to alter his size. Smallest size- 2’7, small enough to perch on my shoulder. Largest size- 6’3. He likes to change it up on different days.  
3\. WingEaters can curl their tail a certain way to avoid stabbing others.  
4\. Betas wear special garbs because they are the “butchers” of their colony. They’re in charge of prey and taking care of food supply.  
5\. Despite being monsters, WingEaters enjoy grooming and pruning.  
6\. WingEaters are bipedal, but usually walk around on all fours.  
7\. Mouse’s favorite food appears to be hard boiled eggs and fruits. He also enjoys to gnaw on chicken bones.**

“Is that supposed to be the wizard?” Emily asked.

Mouse growled, shredding the dough into tiny pieces with his claws. When he finished, he huffed and jumped up, latching onto the ceiling.

“Not going to clean that up, huh?”

The beast whined and then stuck his tongue out to lick up the scraps.

“Good. Now, I gotta go pick up some more sugar from the store. If the timer goes off, take the cookies out for me, okay? Stay out of sight, though. Don’t worry about it if someone comes inside. Just do your disappearing thing.”

Mouse whined sharply. He raced after Emily, grabbing her sleeve when she got to the door.

“What? I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t let go. Emily had to pry his claws off.

“Just hang tight, okay? I won’t be long.”

She walked out and to the general store. Pierre and Caroline both greeted her- the chirp of a swallowtail and Northern lapwing.

“Hello, Emily,” Pierre says.

“Hey, Pierre!” Emily flashed a grin at him. “Just picking up more sugar for the cookies.”

She talks with the elder birds while picking up her items. When answering Caroline, a horrible feeling washes over her. A hot, thrumming sensation throbbed behind her eyes. It caught her off guard, and Caroline appeared to notice.

“Are you okay?” She asked, concern flashing in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Emily winced, “Can I, umm, use your bathroom?”

After getting permission, Emily hurried into the restroom. She gripped at the edge of the sink and sunk down to her knees, breathing deeply through her nose.

What was this? This couldn’t be that phantom pain Harvey had talked about. Phantom pain shouldn’t be behind her goddamn eyes.

Emily felt hot all over, then cold, then hot again. Her wing flapped wildly before drooping to the floor. Two hellish minutes later, it finally ends. Emily rises back up to her feet and then instantly jumps backwards, yelling out loud.

Mouse was in the bathroom with her, hanging from the ceiling like a gecko. His head tilts around curiously.

“Mouse!” Emily hissed softly, “What are you doing here?”

The monster growls. His eyes are scanning her, like he’s checking her for wounds. His human sighs.

“Fine. But you can’t come out with me.”

Mouse bobbed his head up and down. He shifted and then opened the cabinet above the sink. He coos in awe.

“Mouse- hey! Stop that! This is not our bathroom!”

The monster looked up and stared at her with large green eyes. He made a gurgling sound and then continued poking through the items serrated claws. He picks up a perfume bottle.

“Didn’t you hear me? You can’t just touch other people’s personal belongings!”

Emily goes up to pull him away when he turns and sprays her in the face with perfume. It was clearly an accident- he didn’t know what the little bottle even did.

The girl totters backwards, falling into the bathtub while she was vigorously rubbing her face. She grunted and heard Mouse chirrup in surprise, crawling over to check if she was okay. When he realized she was, he turned his attention back to the drawers.

“That’s lipstick, remember.” Emily said when he picked up the metal capsule, “You put it on your face.”

Mouse seemed to be sniffing the tube. Then, he opened his mouth and a tongue slithered out.

“No! Mouse-!”

Emily stops him before he could get any of his gross monster saliva on anything that didn’t belong to her. He grumbled and set the lipstick down, picking up a brush instead.

“Hairbrush.” Emily informs, ruffling her fingers through her blue locks, “You use it to brush, well, hair.”

Mouse rapped the top of his head with the prongs. He had no hair to comb, so he tried the item on Emily.

“Yeah, like th- Ow. Okay, you’re- Ow. You’re pulling, Mouse. Ow! You’re not supposed to- Ow! Don’t pull my hair out!”

The WingEater stopped, dropped the hairbrush, and then continued his work by grooming Emily with his long tongue. A shudder runs down her spine as her blue locks are matted with monster saliva.

“Mouse! That’s so gross! Stop- agh!” She can’t help but laugh when the monster practically leans on her, arms draped over her shoulders, purring contently. She stops abruptly when there’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“Emily? Are you okay in there?”

Right. This wasn’t her house.

“Y-yes, ma’am!” Emily called back, shoving Mouse into the bathtub space, “I’m fine! Everything is fine!”

That didn’t sound suspicious at all.

She starts putting everything away, noticing how her hair is sticking up in the mirror. She quickly fixes it.

Mouse is peeking out a little, his tongue still swirling in the air. For a monster, he was such a dork. A dork that almost got them caught, but lovable nonetheless.

“Shhh,” Emily put a finger over her lips and he mimicked her, his wings flapping a little. “Go on. Go. Do your weird disappearing thing.”

Mouse tilted his head to the side, gurgling softly. He hopped up onto the edge of the tub and stood on his toes, wings beating faster.

“No, go. Go, Mouse. You can’t come out with me, everyone will freak out!”

The monster grumbled, hissing slightly between his sharp teeth. He appeared to be pouting for a moment. Then, when Emily blinks, he’s gone. The wren walks out once he is and awkwardly apologizes to Caroline.

She’s walking home with the sugar when someone screams. Wings flap rapidly; everyone is in the air. A few are perched up high on the roofs, wings open and ready. Jodi is holding Vincent close to her chest, Pam and Penny stay close to each other, Lewis looks nervous for the citizens. Something has scared all of them. Emily freezes.

A WingEater lurks into town. She’s very big and muscular- the webbed spine on the back of the neck signifies the gender (Emily read that in a book). Dark, dull gold skin with ruby red eyes. Two sets of wings- blue jay and red-winged blackbird. Her eight-inch claws scrape menacingly against the stone pavement.

This was why humans evolved to have wings, so they could flee from these beasts. But this one could fly, too, and WingEaters were lethal and dangerous in the air. At least there was still a better chance of getting away than being on the ground.

Emily backed up into the announcement board hung up on Pierre’s store. Her breathe was heavy and quiet, the fear consuming her. There was no way she could outrun a WingEater. The others watched her from above, as still as she was.

The monster’s head snaps around and she spots Emily. Growling lowly, she stalks over slowly, causing the prey to press closer to the wall. Each footstep sends vibrations rattling up to Emily’s ribcage. The wren slowly turns her head away to avoid having to stare into those burning red eyes. Razor sharp teeth gleam in the sunlight, mere inches away from her face.

The snarling is similar to that of a jaguar, but if that jaguar was was eight and a half feet tall and had a poisonous barb on its tail. Emily had read about how WingEaters were not as savage as the stories say. Yes, they did kill, but they weren’t always about tearing prey apart. Females, like this one, went after food in a slow, calibrated way. Their intelligence was frightening. This method of hunting was one Emily could expect, but not the part where the carnivore stopped mid-bite.

The WingEater lowered its head a little, inching closer and closer. Emily is frozen solid, refusing to even breathe. A nose bumps against her chest, pressing to her clothing and inhaling her scent. After a long breath, the monster pulls back slowly, and Emily’s gaze moved without her permission. She made direct eye contact with the killing machine. In those painfully long seconds, time seemed to slow down. Emily thought she saw something glint in the female’s ruby orbs.

The WingEater snarls in Emily’s face and then promptly turned around, stalking out of the village. The wren gasps, gulping down air. Above her, the others murmured to each other in surprise and relief. Shane’s comment described how everyone was feeling at that moment.

“What the fuck?”

———

It was a dominance thing.

Emily wasn’t killed that day because her actions reacted with the WingEater’s natural instincts or something like that. When she had turned her head away, it was a sign of submission, but the eye contact was sudden dominance. The monsters weren’t quite used to prey showing strength like that, nor did they enjoy little blue birds staring at them. Not to mention how it helped that Mouse had his scent all over her.

That night, Emily was still coming down from the shock and Mouse was taking his time rubbing against her. She was his human and he had to get the other WingEater’s scent off of her. The wren couldn’t get the way that female had looked at her out of her head. Something about it seemed so...human.

She didn’t think she was going to fall asleep after that terror and adrenaline rush, but darkness came rather quickly. When morning light shined through the curtains, Emily discovered a neat circle of rats on her bedroom floor.

Scream.

 


End file.
